


Solstice

by sniperct



Series: Elsamaren Canon Oneshots [13]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Belonging, Elsamaren Summer 2020 (Disney), F/F, Music, Singing, Summer Solstice, joik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: It's the first Summer Solstice since the fog lifted, and the Northuldra are happy to celebrate. Unsure if her presence would be intruding, Elsa stays apart. Honeymaren has other ideas.But she also has a gift of song.
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Series: Elsamaren Canon Oneshots [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587601
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75
Collections: Elsamaren Summer 2020





	Solstice

**Author's Note:**

> Elsamaren Summer 2020 day 1: Culture and Heritage

Elsa sat in a tree, watching the stars as they faded in the pre-dawn twilight. The sun would be rising soon and with it the birth of summer. It was in some small way one of Elsa’s favorite times of year; since later she would ride to Arendelle to surprise her sister on her birthday. No strings of presents, but she’d learned that such displays weren’t necessary and couldn’t properly convey how much she loved her sister.

But for now, she listened as the Northuldra celebrated the summer solstice. There was music in the distance and she closed her eyes, imagining the smiling faces and almost yearning to join them. But it wasn’t really her place, she felt. Elsa was still an outsider and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel welcome. The Northuldra _tried_ , though, but she felt like a person stuck in between.

Arendelle had never felt like home either. Her sister was home. So maybe home wasn’t a place, but people. Which didn’t help her feeling so adrift, at any rate. Arendelle was her people. So were the Northuldra, even if she’d never known that until recently.

But maybe, sometimes, home was an individual; or a few individuals. The family she’d built and the new additions to it. Anna, Olaf, Kristoff. Sven. Ryder. _Honeymaren_. A smile played on Elsa’s lips as she thought about the woman and imagined her dancing or playing her drum or fadno. 

Ryder always preferred the wal-pipe, which reminded her of the Scottish bagpipe in shape, though the sound was different. If Elsa had to choose between all the instruments available to her, she could listen to Maren play the pipe all night. But she was still the outsider. The Fifth Spirit. And she feared that that was all Honeymaren and her people might see. Not Elsa. Just the spirit who knew her place but was afraid to belong.

Rustling drew her attention to something to her right and she nearly fell out of her tree when Honeymaren’s face popped seemingly out of nowhere, “Gyah!!”

“Sorry.” Maren smiled, finding a spot on the branch next to Elsa that was so close she was forced to press herself against her.

Elsa swallowed. She was cool, she was collected but Maren smelled nice and felt nice and everything about her was _nice_. She was pretty sure she’d do anything Maren asked right about now as she asked. “It’s okay. Do you need something?”

Maren glanced at her, expression unreadable in the dim light. “You could say that. But I’m more concerned about you.”

“About me?”

“Why don’t you come join us?”

Oh. Elsa chewed her lip, settling back against the tree. Her arm ended up around Honeymaren and she tried to ignore the way her heart sped up at the closeness and warmth. “It’s not my place. It’s a Northuldra celebration.”

“It’s also the first summer sunrise many of us have ever seen,” Maren pointed out, very gently. “And you’re half-Northuldra. It’s a part of you as much as it’s a part of me.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Elsa said. “And I’m afraid that I’d somehow distract from everything.”

“I’ll admit that time you fell on your butt when I was teaching you a dance was a little distracting, but trust me.” She stroked the top of Elsa’s hand with one finger, “We want you there. We want you to feel like you belong. To feel like you’re family. Not because you’re the Fifth Spirit or a former Queen, but because you _do_ belong. Your mother was cut off from the rest of us, but I believe if she thought she could, she would have brought both you and your sister here so that you could learn as much about this part of your heritage as your father’s part.”

Elsa felt a tingle run up her arm, “I’m scared. I’m scared that I found myself but now that I have no one else wants that. I’m sometimes scared even Anna isn’t--”

Maren put her finger over Elsa’s slips, “It’s okay to be scared, but I don’t think that’s something you need to be afraid of. I … like you, Elsa. And your sister loves you with all the ferocity of the burning sun. _And_ on that note, I’ve been working on something just for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You remember how I taught you to play?” Maren asked, placing a reed into Elsa’s hand. A fadno was a flute fashioned from a local plant and it produced a beautiful sound. She then shifted until she was leaning against Elsa, practically in her arms.

“What am I supposed to play?” Elsa inhaled Maren’s scent, feeling suddenly dizzy.

"There's a tradition among us called joik," Maren said, tapping her fingers on Elsa's leg. "Using song to _evoke_ a person or place. Like a drawing, but with music. Sometimes, parents will make up a song for their child. Other times, we might sing for someone we've come to care about a great deal." She twisted around, smiling at Elsa, eyes glimmering in the darkness, "Do you remember how we greeted you, when we learned who your mother was?"

Elsa nodded wordlessly, lost in Maren’s eyes.

"It's a _bit_ like that. So it's not a song about a person or place, but ... to make you think about them."

"So this is a joik about ... me?"

Maren nodded. "Play from your heart and I'll sing and _together_ we'll show how you belong."

Feeling a strange sort of tightness in her chest, Elsa brought the reed to her lips and blew a few notes, letting her emotions guide her. Music had always been something that spoke to her, much like her math and science had and if she really thought about it they were all the same. Music _was_ math, but it was art too. Emotions. 

With Maren warm against her and the Northuldra song faint and distant, she played.

Honeymaren’s voice was high and clear, not quite forming words but making shapes out of sounds. Elsa closed her eyes, sometimes guiding Maren but mostly letting _her_ be the guide. She could see, in her mind’s eye, the picture that Honeymaren was painting and Elsa felt warm and wanted and at peace.

As the last note drifted into the dawning light and tears flowed down Elsa’s face, she opened her eyes. Her magic had taken the song and given it life, painting with snow and ice the emotions and feelings that Honeymaren had evoked in her.

Wiping at her eyes, Elsa said, “Thank you. That was beautiful.”

“I had a good subject.” Maren lifted her hand and gently brushed away a few last tears. Then she trailed her fingers down Elsa’s cheek before pulling her hand away. The sensation was nearly enough to make her cry again.

“I think … I think I’d like to join the others now.”

Honeymaren beamed at her and the expression was overwhelming to Elsa. She almost kissed her impulsively, catching herself just as she started to lean in. But Maren either noticed or she had the same idea. Her kiss was quick and light, more of a promise than anything else that left their breath misting between them. But it lit Elsa’s insides up like a yule tree next to a fireplace.

“We should be just in time for the best part,” Maren said. “At least… from what Haladreth told me.”

“Then we need to hurry.” Elsa formed a slide out of ice, and together they slid down it to the forest below, Maren clutching tightly to her arms. As they started to walk, she bravely took Honeymaren’s hand, “Honeymaren? Next year, can we invite Anna?”

“Of course.” Maren nudged her shoulder against Elsa’s, “She is one of us, too.”

“Maybe I’ll come up with a joik for her…” But she set aside that thought for now, since her mind was already forming the notes to evoke Honeymaren. Elsa hummed one or two, and squeezed her hand.


End file.
